


To Kiss The Stars

by Anonymous



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Internal Conflict, M/M, Master/Pet, Master/Servant, Nobody knows what Aaravos is doing, Porn With Plot, Viren doesn't know what he's doing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-01-27 18:57:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21397057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: "Why did they return you?"Aaravos smiles, a tongue peeking out from the corner of his mouth. "Guess I was too much of a handful," he replies.(In a world where elves are raised to be pets and servants to humans, Viren is a mess of a rich, newly divorced man and Aaravos is an elf refusing to submit to the role of his people. This ends up being a longer story than one would expect.)
Relationships: Aaravos/Viren (The Dragon Prince), Harrow/Sarai (The Dragon Prince), Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 31
Kudos: 183
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> idk i'm just trying to pass time waiting for s3

Viren is not a desperate person.

At least, that's what he likes telling himself - and he knows, for certain, that it was true at some point. But perhaps, after everything that has happened in the past few years, him and his being have gone through some changes. Or maybe he has always been just a little desperate, but he has not been ready to admit it until now - maybe he has not had the _need _to admit it until now.

He had seen himself above the basic needs of, everything, basically, but once his wife took their two children and left him alone in his great manor, he found himself wallowing in self-pity, just like any other man would. It angers him, angers him even more to admit it to himself - and then he realizes that his denial of basic human feelings must have been why she left him in the first place, and it angers him even more.

But he had admitted his weakness to himself regardless, and he had considered being like a normal person and confiding in his friend. But Harrow, gentle, loving, the probably all-around best of humanity, had recently gotten married, and they were _expecting, _with one child from Sarai's previous relationship to care for as well, and Viren figured that he should not bring his mess into their happiness.

(And perhaps, the family simply reminded him of his own past, and he couldn't _stand _it. He couldn't _stand_ seeing their happiness when he was like this.)

So, eventually, this has all led to Viren admitting that he must be a desperate person. And maybe even a little pathetic, too. And, most of all, he definitely is ashamed of the excuse of a human he has become, but he had already stepped his foot inside this place, and there was no going back.

The hall is classy, certainly, with dark walls and big chandeliers pattered on the high ceiling, but somehow, it had a very strong resemblance to a strip club. Viren scowls, ignoring the fact that he had, indeed, come here by his own choice.

Carmel ascends the wide stairs across from him, her face lighting up as soon as they make eye-contact. She lifts the hem of her long, extravagant dress and picks up her pace to come and greet him.

"Viren," she purrs, "it's a pleasure to see you changed your mind."

Viren grunts. "I didn't," he says, "I told you from the start that I would consider it."

"Yes, of course," Carmel says hurriedly. Viren resists the urge to roll his eyes and leave the place immediately. This was a bad idea, anyway. A _really _bad idea. "Would you like to take a look at what we have to offer?"

At first, Viren doesn't know what to answer, because frankly, he does not. He does _not _want to take a walk around a _pethouse _and stare at unnaturally pretty elves sitting around wearing collars and expensive clothes. He does not want to be like the sad, lonely, divorced man he is. Good heavens, he should not have come here. But he did, and turning back now would probably be more embarrassing than just going along with it, anyway.

He can take a look, and then he'll tell Carmel that nothing caught his interest, and then he will return home. Alone.

"Yes," he eventually says, adding a pointed, "that is why I am here," afterwards, if only to save himself from looking like a total idiot. It doesn't really work, but that doesn't seem to bother Carmel.

"Come along, then," she tells him, holding at his arm with both, well-manicured hands as she starts leading him deeper inside the building. It is a lot bigger than it seems from the outside - though, frankly, not as big as Viren's manor. But it's not like Viren cares for the empty rooms of his so-called home anyway.

A few elves pass by them in the corridor, golden clothes adoring their dark skin - sunfire elves. They step to the side as Carmel and Viren pass by, bowing down in an almost frantic manner. Viren has not seen an elf so up-close in years - he faintly remembers a moonshadow elf from when he was a kid serving at his uncle's house - and he glances at the two over his shoulder as he reaches the end of the corridor with Carmel, and meets eyes with one of them. The said elf nearly quivers in embarrassment and turns their head back down, and that's all Viren sees before Carmel pulls him out of the corridor.

"Those two are still under training," Carmel mutters into his ear, "I only want to offer you the very best."

"That's what I'm expecting," Viren grunts before turning his attention to the room they have arrived to. It's not exactly a room - it's more like a wide, circular space, with the round ceiling made entirely of glass. Viren stares at the late evening sky through the glass before dropping his gaze back to his own level.

The space is _full _of elves - it's almost like a restaurant on a busy night, with the tables, chairs and sofas occupied. They are conversing with each other, some of them are dressing up or doing their hair, some are sitting down while enjoying a cup of _something _Viren assumes is tea. Once a few of them notice the two human's presence, it starts a hurried wave of the elves leaving whatever they were doing and dropping down to their knees to bow down at them. The enormous room quiets down in seconds.

Viren doesn't know what to think of it. He doesn't even know what he was expecting. He has, of course, learned about pethouses, about elves, about how they are trained, but somehow, this seems very surreal to him. He definitely shouldn't have come here. What on _Earth _was he even _thinking?_

Carmel claps her hands a few times and snaps him out of his thoughts. "Very well," she says, rising her voice as if to make it echo all over the room, "we have a very important quest tonight. Viren is an old friend of mine, and he _only _deserves the best. Be sure to act presentable."

There's a chorus of _yes, madam, _as if coming off a record, and then the elves are getting up from the floor and returning to their tasks. Viren casts a look at Carmel, and she flashes him a smile.

"We have figured out that the best way for our customers to get to know the pets is by letting them watch them doing their chores," she explains, hooking her arm with Viren's and pulling him forwards. "Every elf in this room has received the full five years of training, and knows exactly what we require from them in the presence of a customer."

"How many of them are there?"

"Fifty-two at the moment, I believe. As you know, we are one of the biggest pethouses in the entire world."

"Quantity doesn't quarantee quality," Viren says. Carmel laughs.

"Of course it doesn't. But believe me, if you are looking for a perfect pet or servant, ours is the best place to look for," she says, stopping by at one table. It's occupied by four female moonshadow elves drinking tea and doing each other's hair. They bow their heads at the two of them, one of them peeking curiously at Viren.

"Good evening, sir," she says, "may we assist you on something?"

Viren blinks at her, caught slightly off-guard, and then shakes his head. "No, thank you," he grunts. The elf nods gracefully and goes back to her tea, and Carmel starts pulling him along with herself once again.

"I take that they were not your type?" she questions. "Are they not pretty enough?"

Viren simply shrugs his shoulders. Is he supposed to have a type when it comes to _elves? _

Carmel hums as if he had given her a proper response and brings him to another table with sunfire elves. They don't pique Viren's interest either. Frankly, he's sure none of them will. He is still clinging onto his plan of leaving this place alone, and it only grows stronger the more elves he sees. Even with differences in their races and their looks, they are all still the _same. _Same mannerisms, same personalities - as if they were robots. But then again, they aren't _human _anyway, so maybe Viren shouldn't expect anything more of them.

"You sure do have high standards," Carmel laughs, "but that's what I like about you."

Viren rolls his eyes and is about to grumble some sort of a half-assed reply to her, when his world literally comes to a stop.

The elf is sitting to the side, separated from the rest of his kind. He has one leg gracefully dangling over the loveseat's armrest, with the other knee pulled up to his chest. There's a book on his hand - a rare sight in the room, which was somewhat amusing, as he was a rare sight himself as well.

A startouch elf. Viren had never seen one in real life. There were only a few of them left, and they were highly sought after among humans.

Which, quite frankly, left him wondering - _how _was there one sitting in this room, without Carmel even mentioning it to him? He wasn't familiar with this business, but surely, after all the boasting she'd been doing about the place, leaving out an actual startouch elf surely seems...odd.

"Viren?" Carmel calls out to him, and he realizes that she had probably been saying something beforehand. She steps to his side again and follows his gaze, and her smile wavers for a moment - it's a very short moment, but Viren catches it regardless. "Oh," she says, "he's quite a sight, isn't he?"

Viren ignores the question and instead he asks, "how come you didn't mention having a startouch elf?"

Carmel sighs and clicks her tongue. She lets go of Viren to cross her arms across her chest. "I used to talk about him to all customers, you know," she explains, "it's just- he's not exactly what they, or we, expect him to be."

"What does that mean?"

Carmel looks a little distressed. "He's not properly disciplined," she says after a moment. "He has even received extra training, but he's, uh, very _stubborn__. _He has actually been bought a few times already and then returned here after a while."

Viren responds with a low '_hmph_' and then turns his gaze back to the elf in question. He's still focused on his book, swirling a strand of hair around one finger. The stars on his blue skin are flickering, and Viren finds himself staring for a lot longer than he intended to.

"What's his name?" he asks.

"Aaravos," Carmel answers hesitantly. "Listen, Viren, darling. I understand why you are intrigued by him, but as I said, I only wish to give you the best. There are a few who I would like you to see-"

Viren waves her off with his hand as if swatting away a fly and then starts walking towards the startouch elf. He hears Carmel sigh, and then the loud sound of her heels clicking as she follows after him.

Frankly, Viren doesn't know _why _he's so interested in this elf. Obviously, his race was what caught his attention at first, but Viren has never really been interested in startouch elves, despite how rare - and how unique-looking - they may be. The best idea would probably be to turn around right now and leave this place entirely, but here he is, walking straight up to this elf as if he actually had interest in him.

He stops right next to the loveseat, with Carmel stopping next to him, and he stares at the elf, kind of expecting him to react to his presence like the others had done.

Nothing.

Viren sees from his peripheral vision how Carmel frowns, tapping her heel against the floor.

"Aaravos," she speaks, "show some respect to our quest."

The elf stops turning a page mid-air, and slowly, _really slowly, _turns his gaze over to look at Viren. It's a strong gaze, almost somehow _mocking, _even if his expression remains neutral. Viren suddenly feels extremely awkward just standing there.

"Hello, sir," he speaks, and Viren's knees almost _buckle _underneath him from - from what? Fear? _Arousal_? He doesn't even fucking know. The elf's lips curl into an amused smile, and he continues with his deep, baritone voice; "How may I serve you?"

Viren is, to say the truth, entirely speechless. He completely forgets the reason he came there in the first place - if there even was a reason to begin with - and he has to take a moment to recollect himself. The elf seems to find this funny. Carmel definitely does not.

"Aaravos," she says in a stern voice, "do not cause any trouble today."

"When have I ever?" Aaravos asks with his smooth voice, returning to his book. Viren takes a deep breath and somehow masks it with a cough.

"How many times have you been returned here?" he ends up asking. Carmel grimaces beside him, and Aaravos turns a page from his book, unaffected.

"What is it to you, sir?"

"Oh for god's sake," Carmel hisses, basically tearing the book from the elf's hands. The latter frowns and gives her a confused look. "Answer him."

"Fine," Aaravos says, dragging the word with his tongue as if it was somehow heavy. He then looks at Viren again, leaning back on his seat. "Five times," he says, "sir."

Viren tries to appear unfazed. "Why did they return you?"

Aaravos smiles, a tongue peeking out from the corner of his mouth. "Guess I was too much of a handful," he replies.

Carmel scoffs, turning away from Aaravos and facing Viren. "He doesn't know how to behave, as I mentioned before," she says, "and no one has time for such a pet. I suggest we-"

"I have plenty of time," Viren says, interrupting her. He looks down at Aaravos, who looks back up at him, combing his fingers through his long, white hair. "I'd rather talk about money. How much?"

Carmel stares at him, a small chuckle escaping her mouth. "I'm sorry?"

"How much?" Viren repeats. "I want to buy him."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> huh

Aaravos walks right beside Viren when they leave the pethouse, his head tilted to the side as he rakes Viren's limousine with his sharp gaze. And it's ridiculous, because the elf is supposed to be just a servant, a _slave, _but somehow Viren gets unnervingly self-conscious over the damn vehicle, up to the point where he starts wondering if Aaravos' former masters had had finer cars - as if that, in any god damn level, matters. He doesn't care if the elf's previous owners were wealthier, or had fancier cars or bigger houses - the thing that matters in the end is that they all returned him, but Viren won't.

Viren _won't._

He still has some pride left, and he's not going to let it crumble to pieces by a startouch elf with glimmering eyes and unnaturally soft hair. (Viren touched his hair briefly earlier, more on an accident than anything, and he doesn't recall ever holding something quite as silky on his fingertips before.)

"Not bad," Aaravos finally says, turning his gaze away from the car to look at its owner instead. There's a small, perhaps a little teasing grin on his lips, and Viren tries his best to look like he doesn't notice it.

"I don't quite recall asking for your opinion," Viren grunts at him. The grin doesn't disappear. And by God, does Viren hate it - hates feeling like has no control over the situation.

His driver emerges from the car, rather sloppily, offering his apologies as he bows and drags the door of the limousine open. It's only when he properly lifts his head that he seems to notice Aaravos' existence, and his jaw drops. Viren feels embarrassed - and frustrated, but mostly embarrassed - and he clears his throat, gaining the man's attention back to him.

"We're headed home," he tells him as he steps inside the limousine. Aaravos follows suit without even asked to, and Viren thinks he catches him flashing a smile at the driver.

"Yes, sir," the driver answers, late and with a blush on his cheeks, and then the door slides shut and Viren is left alone with Aaravos again. He's not sure if he feels relieved or terrified - and that's bad. He absolutely shouldn't be letting this elf - this _servant _\- get to him like this. Viren's the one who bought him, he's the one who's the owner, and Aaravos, regardless of how beautiful or confident he is, is the one with the collar around his neck.

And right now Aaravos is, also, the one kneeling by his fridge and casually going through his wine collection.

Viren opens his mouth, then stops himself, lets out a heavy sigh and opens his mouth again; "Exactly _what _are you _doing?"_

"Pardon me, sir," Aaravos replies as he looks at Viren over his shoulder, "but I think that you really seem to be in need of a drink."

Viren raises an eyebrow, leaning back on his seat. The car swings ever-so-slightly as the driver pulls out of the parking space, and Viren stares at the wine rocking inside the bottles, his gaze turned away from Aaravos. "And what gave you that impression, I wonder?" he eventually asks.

"You are awfully tense," Aaravos answers smoothly, slipping his hand across the door of the fridge to shut it - without taking a single bottle out. Viren looks at him again, forcing himself to keep a neutral expression on his face as Aaravos practically _crawls _over to him across the floor of the car, only stopping to sit by his feet. "Would it be a correct assumption if I say that you have not had a pet of my kind before?"

Viren's cheeks heat up and suddenly he's acting on a whim, leaning down to grasp at the collar on Aaravos' neck and dragging him up to him until they are face to face with Aaravos still on his knees, grapping at Viren's thighs to catch his balance. Viren feels the quick draw of breath Aaravos takes, right on his lips, and sees the calm, arrogant demeanor waver just for a second before Aaravos returns to his smile from earlier.

A second is enough, at this point. Viren can work with that.

"Do you think I'm easy to play with?" he asks, _hisses, _his fingers tightening around the rough material of Aaravos' collar. "That you'll tire me out until I return you, just like your previous masters? Is that what you are aiming for?"

The smile on Aaravos' face grows, and he tilts his head to the side, leaning closer to Viren until his lips are brushing his cheek - and it's Viren's turn to waver. "What are _you _aiming for, sir?" Aaravos asks. He ignores Viren's questions completely, but Viren can't even get mad about it - not with his hot breath ghosting his skin and his deep voice whispering so close to his ear.

He really has become touch-starved in the past few months.

Viren slips one hand up Aaravos' neck, to grab his chin, and makes him look him in the eyes again. "In general, or concerning you?" he asks.

Aaravos licks his lips, his tongue peeking out dangerously close to Viren's mouth. "Both of those," he says.

Viren responds with a quiet 'hmph' and leans away from Aaravos' distracting lips just a tad bit. "What I'm aiming for in general is nothing out of ordinary," he says, "I want to be successful, just like anyone else wants."

Aaravos raises an eyebrow. "Are you not already successful?" he asks, one hand leaving Viren's thigh to gesture around the car. "You are wealthy, and your social status appears to be rather strong."

Viren's eye twitches in annoyance. "And how do you know a thing about my social status?"

"Humans are easy to read," Aaravos says, emphasizing the word _human_. His other hand slides down to Viren's inner thigh, and his lips quirk into another smile as Viren tenses up in response. "Let's see," Aaravos whispers, "you have not been touched in this way for a while, and you are not used to being this close to a stranger. Perhaps a divorce after a long marriage?"

Viren swallows, turning his head away as he takes in Aaravos' words. Is he really _that _obvious?

"I will take that as a yes," Aaravos purrs. His hand remains where it was, as if waiting for an invitation to touch _closer, _and Viren struggles with trying to rationalize his thoughts. He's losing control of the situation again, and that needs to _stop._

With a deep breath - one that he tries to mask as a sigh - Viren faces Aaravos again and takes a hold of his hand, pulling it away from his thigh. "Yes," he says, "that would be correct."

Aaravos stares up at him without pulling his hand free from his grasp, and tilts his head to the side, his silky hair flowing with the motion. "Very well," he says. "And what are you aiming for regarding me?"

"That," Viren starts, letting go of his hand to tug at a strand of white, long hair, "you'll have to figure out on your own."

With that, he lets Aaravos go and sits straight on the car seat again, crossing his arms and focusing his gaze on one of the windows.

  
  
  
  


"This is your room," Viren says, absentmindedly pushing open the door to one of the many bedrooms in his manor. It's the smallest one, simple in design, with one bed and a bookshelf, along with an armchair located by the window. Aaravos strides past him and immediately makes his way to the bookshelf, grabbing one book to look at.

"Seems very-" Aaravos starts, taking a quick glance around the room with the book on his hand, "human."

Viren doesn't comment on that. "There is a bathroom across the hall," he says, "you are welcome to use it, as long as you clean after yourself. And do _not _bother the other servants working here. Be respectful to them. Every human in this house is above you."

"So I am the last of the foodchain," Aaravos hums, returning his book back to the shelf. "Understood, _sir. _And where is your bedroom?"

Viren raises an eyebrow. "It is upstairs," he replies, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorframe. "And why are you asking me this, again?"

Aaravos brings a hand to his mouth and actually _chuckles, _turning so that he is fully facing Viren. "I don't know," he replies, gracefully making his way closer until he's standing right in front of Viren. "Though, usually," he says, fitting the palms of his hands against Viren's chest, "the master bedroom is where my new owners take me first."

Viren's face heats up and he looks up at Aaravos - _oh, _how he hates that he actually has to look up at him, that Aaravos is actually taller than him. It makes him feel uneasy, with his back against the doorframe and Aaravos looking down at him, confident, almost _arrogant. _

"Kneel down," he says. This actually seems to catch Aaravos off-guard as the elf raises an eyebrow, his cocky smile wavering for a moment. But he gathers himself quickly, his hands slipping off Viren's chest as he slowly kneels down in front of him. Seeing him look up at Viren - the way he did in the car - brings Viren some kind of easiness, and at the same time, it causes his insides to churn - in a somewhat _satisfying _way.

"Is there something you need, sir?" Aaravos asks, hands perched on his lap, and Viren suddenly _really _wants to get a leash to attach to the elf's collar. It's not exactly a very shocking concept - he knows many people like to keep their slaves on a leash - but he had never really personally cared for such a thing. Regardless, the thought of pulling Aaravos along with him however Viren wants instead of letting Aaravos walk around however he _himself _wants, was starting to feel extremely appealing.

"Not really," he finally says. He tries his best to erase the thought of Aaravos in a leash, tugging him closer or perhaps pulling harshly so that Aaravos would scramble down from his knees, all the way to the floor. The latter thought is intriguing, _so _intriguing; he wants to see Aaravos stumble and trip, wants to know his pretty face would look if he got embarrassed about it. "Is there something you'd like to offer me?" he asks in return.

Aaravos tilts his head and brings a hand to his own face, dragging a finger across his lower lip. "Should there be?" he asks, his tongue peeking out to lick the tip of his finger, and Viren can hardly stop his knees from buckling underneath him.

"You should always be prepared to offer me something," Viren says, secretly proud of the fact that his voice doesn't come out shaky. And Aaravos smiles again, a huff of laugh leaving his mouth.

"Of course, sir," he replies, his voice dropping down to a whisper as he moves closer to Viren, dragging his knees slowly across the floor until they are nearly pressed against Viren's shoes. "My apologies."

Viren wants to say something to that, to make sure that Aaravos doesn't get the last word, but the words die in his throat when Aaravos leans into him without warning, hands grabbing his hips and mouth pressed at his crotch. Viren's breath hitches and his hand grasps at the doorframe behind him, and a blush rises to his cheeks because he's so damn _embarrassed _and _god, _Aaravos slips out his tongue and starts lapping at the harsh material of Viren's pants as if it was the most natural thing to do.

Perhaps to him it is.

Viren tries to focus, to breathe normally and not to lose himself like a complete fool, but it's so _difficult _because he can feel the wetness of Aaravos' tongue through his clothes, and his eyes are locked onto Aaravos' face, onto his half lidded eyes and the stars on his skin and the warm, _wet _tongue. He wants to take control over situation, but honestly, more than that, he doesn't want Aaravos to stop.

He really is desperate, so desperate it must be pathetic, and never before would he have thought that he'd find himself in this situation, but right now, he can't even be ashamed of it, because he feels so damn good and Aaravos is so damn unnervingly beautiful and _oh, _Aaravos is holding onto his belt and unbuckling it.

And does Viren complain? No, he absolutely does not.

Aaravos has fast hands, and the belt is gone in seconds. Viren's pants get unbuttoned and unzipped in the same pace, and then Aaravos is tugging them down, just slightly so that he can comfortably get his fingers wrapped around the base of Viren's hard cock. As soon as he does that, Viren's breath hitches in his throat and he instinctively snaps his hips forward. Aaravos' lips curl into an amused smile as he glances up at him, and Viren grits his teeth together, staring back at him even if he's embarrassed.

Oh, good lord, he's going to regret this so much later on - scratch that, he already regrets this.

_Until _Aaravos leans in and takes the head of Viren's dick into his mouth, still looking up at him from underneath his sparkling white eyelashes, and Viren nearly cums right then and there. He chokes back a moan and brings a hand to Aaravos' hair, twisting his fingers in the platinum locks as Aaravos closes his eyes and takes more of his length into his warm mouth. Viren can feel himself leaking pre-cum, but Aaravos doesn't seem to mind; he swallows around Viren's cock and then hums, and Viren curses under his breath.

It's just _too _good, _too _much, and Viren wants to cum already and get it over with, but at the same time he wants it to last for hours, wants to grab Aaravos by his horns and force his cock down the elf's throat until he's choking on it. And _god, _he wants to pull Aaravos up from the floor and then shove him back onto the bed across the room, and-

_"Fucking-" _Viren chokes out as Aaravos nudges his head forwards, letting out a small gag as Viren's dick hits the back of his throat. He buries his nose in Viren's pubic hair, his body heaving as he breathes. Viren digs his nails on Aaravos' scalp, and the latter makes a noise that could either be a hum or an incoherent moan, sending vibrations down Viren's dick. Viren grunts, and Aaravos opens his eyes, looks up at him again with half-lidded eyes, and that's it.

Viren pulls Aaravos away from his cock, far enough for the elf to take a deep breath through his mouth, and before he gets to do that properly, he mercilessly thrusts back into his mouth. Aaravos grasps at his hips again, but Viren decides against it and takes both his hands into one of his own - Aaravos has big hands, longer fingers than Viren has, but his wrists are thing enough to fit in Viren's grab just fine. He keeps his other hand in Aaravos' hair and keeps thrusting into his mouth, and in the end, Aaravos doesn't protest. There's saliva and pre-cum running down his jaw, and Viren stares, eyes glazing over as he snaps his hips forward, tightening his grip on Aaravos' wrist and hair.

His orgasm hits him almost without warning, and his body spasms as he cums into Aaravos' mouth. It's so damn intense his legs almost give out underneath him, and he mumbles something incoherent underneath his breath, eyes falling shut as he leans back and slowly lets go of Aaravos, his hands aching from how tight his grip was.

Viren has to take a moment, and then another one, and in the end, he's not quite sure how long he's been standing there, leaning against the doorframe while coming down his high. He opens his eyes slowly, and finds Aaravos still kneeling in front of him, looking up at him with swollen lips curled into his usual smile.

Viren takes a deep breath and tears his gaze away as he tucks himself back into his pants, shame washing over him. Even when he's not looking, he can still feel Aaravos' eyes on him, and it's unnerving.

"I will be in my room," he mutters, straightening his back as he glances down at Aaravos again, "don't bother me."

With that, he walks out, heart beating fast and his entire body burning hot.


End file.
